‘Leave me alone,’ said the boy again.
‘Neeeveeer,’ said the voice. The boy was fed up. Fed up with battling his pocket ghost.
‘What do you want from me?’ said the boy, desperately.
‘Sugar,’ was the answer. ‘Glorious sugar.’
The boy reached into his rucksack and pulled out a pack of three bourbon biscuits. He fed them to his pocket. The pocket was quiet for a while. The boy left the park and wandered home. He’d tried changing jackets, wearing clothes with no pockets, but it was always there, stealing his sweets. He was doomed.
It didn’t work, because the stories were rubbish and the sun was too bright.
‘Hey Bee,’ said Jonno. He was lying on his back with his eyes shut. ‘Haven’t noticed you sleepwalking this week. Thought it was your speciality.’
Bee propped herself up on one elbow. She had a smug look on her face. ‘I’m cured,’ she said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out Fifty’s flower remedy. It was obviously good stuff. I thought I’d get him to give me some. Who knows what it could cure?
The camp horn sounded which meant it was time for the afternoon activity. We followed Max and Mr Morris (who was wearing red trousers and a short-sleeved khaki shirt, which was at least better than a jacket and tie).
‘We’re going to walk the course first. I’ll point out the possible pitfalls. Then it’s a relay, in pairs. The first pair goes off on the sound of my gun.’ He shot it and we all jumped. ‘The second pair go off when they hear the gun again, which will mean one pair has reached the other end. The third pair wait for the third shot.’
‘That’s not fair,’ said Bee. ‘Why should all the second pairs go off at the same time? Why can’t —’
‘I didn’t say it was fair. Isaid that’s what we’re doing,’ said Max. That shut her up.
I was next to Fifty, who was concentrating really hard on everything Max said. I could tell he was worried he wasn’t going to make it over all the obstacles. I’ll describe the course: a high wall with a drop the other side, arope bridge, a pole to climb followed by a zip wire over the river, scramble nets to crawl under, aslippery slope to get up, ropes to swing on, a balance beam, then a ladder leading up to monkey bars back over the river, and then a jump on to the bank – or a drop into the river!
‘You’ll be fine,’ I said.
Fifty stared back at me. His face was as white as chalk and his black curly hair looked even blacker, like he’d been monochromed.
‘Course I will,’ he said, ‘. . . and there goes a flying pig.’
The Race
Is On
‘OK,’ said Max. ‘So, divide your team into pairs, number them one, two, three and send your first pair to the start line. Double quick.’
We all looked at each other.
‘I’ll go with Lily,’ said Bee.
‘Not a great idea,’ said Copper Pie. ‘Two girls together . . . ‘
‘Says who?’ said Bee.
There was a delay, while Copper Pie worked out the right answer.’ No one,’ he said.
‘And why don’t you go with Fifty, Copper Pie?’ said Bee.
‘OK,’ he said. I thought I should go with Fifty but Jonno said, ‘So it’s me and Keener,’ and that was that.
‘We’ll be pair one,’ said Bee. ‘OK, Lily?’
‘Sure.’
They lined up next to Callum and Jamie, Zoe and her partner, and two boys from Team GB.
‘Go Tribe!’ shouted Copper Pie.
Callum turned and sneered. ‘No chance,’ he said.
‘We’ll see,’ said Copper Pie back to him.
‘In your dreams, Ginge.’
Callum was pushing his luck. If Max hadn’t sounded his gun we might have had a situation.
Bee and Lily shot over the wall in the lead. Bee gave Lily a leg up and then Lily leant down and grabbed Bee’s arm and she scampered up the wall like a lizard. They disappeared after that, and we had to wait until they got to the pole to spot them again. At the top of the pole was a platform to catch the zip over to the other side of the river. Callum and Jamie were there first so Bee and Lily had to wait. Really annoying. But Bee and Lily managed to get ahead under the scramble nets. They were like snakes, gliding below the mesh without getting caught on anything. We all clapped and shouted when they emerged at the other end and started to make their way up the slippery slope. It was greasy, like it had washing-up liquid on it. Bee nearly got to the top by crawling on all fours but then she stood up and slid all the way back down. Lily learnt from that and stayed crouched until the top. Oh no, everyone was catching up! All eight of them were on the slope.
Bee and Lily made it to the top and grabbed a rope just before one of the Spiders.
‘Whee!’ shouted Bee.
‘We’re coming in first,’ said Copper Pie. ‘Get ready for the gun, Keener, and you, Jonno.’
Jonno did a thumbs up. I could feel my pulse getting quicker. I didn’t want to let the side down – if the girls could do it, so could I.
The balancing beam looked easy, but the monkey bars looked really difficult. Bee didn’t bother with the first few, she just reached out and grabbed the third or maybe fourth rung (they were actually ladders laid horizontally – four in a row). Lily was on the one next to Bee, and then there was Callum, and two seconds later, Jamie.
‘Go, Bee! Go, Lily!’I shouted my head off.
Bee finished with the most amazing jump, by swinging her legs back and then throwing her legs up and forward like a gymnast on those parallel bar things. The rest of her body followed and she was first, two feet slammed down on to the bank. Callum landed next. I was half watching them arrive back on our side of the river and half waiting for the shot. It didn’t come, because a complete pair had to land before the next ones could go.
Lily was dangling halfway across the river. Bee yelled, ‘Come on, Lily. Move your arm.’ Lily whimpered, and dropped into the water. It wasn’t far, but it was wet. She waded across, up to her waist. Jamie was struggling too but Callum’s shouting made him do it. They both touched the grassy edge at the same time. Equal first.
BANG!
We were off.
Doing it was completely different to watching other people do it. It was all so fast. I was scrambling up, then down, then across, then on my belly, then at an angle, then balancing and then we were at the monkey bars. It was neck and neck all the way – I could hear loud panting but I didn’t know if it was me or someone else, we were all so close together. We all ended up at the ladders within nanoseconds of each other, so each pair bagsied a ladder. Jonno went in front of me. He’s not that sporty but he had no problem swinging like an orangutan across the water. I was right behind. My armpit skin was stretched so far I reckoned I’d have to fold it under my arm at the end, but I’d decided before I even started that I was definitely making it to the other side, so I did. The shot for the last pair to get going rang out the minute I landed, sweating, panting and doubled-over with stitch. Jonno elbowed me – I think it meant ‘well done’. Neither of us could actually speak.
I straightened up as soon as I could to see how Fifty and Copper Pie were getting on. They’d got past the wall, which was good – Copper Pie obviously hadn’t had to kick Fifty over. I waited for them to appear by the pole, ready to zip over the river. The Spiders got there first, then the pair from the Missiles. Where were the Tribers? I was pretty sure Copper Pie would make sure Fifty got through, but it didn’t stop me worrying. Team GB started climbing up the pole. We were last, wherever we were. I wondered how Max was going to judge it. Bee and Lily were equal first out of their race. Me and Jonno were first. If Copper Pie and Fifty were last, what would the overall position be?
By the time Fifty (all red-faced and sweaty, and still small of course) had reached the scramble nets there was no hope. They were too far behind. Although Copper Pie didn’t seem to know that – he was still doing his best to catch up. He lifted the netting by arching his back to let Fifty scuttle through
in super-quick time. Then he sprinted towards the slope and his speed seemed to counteract the slipperiness, and somehow Fifty kept up with him, stride for stride, like a mini-shadow. They swung on the ropes and galloped across the beam. Only the monkey bars left. Team GB was already home but the Spiders and Missiles were only just starting the ladders. Come on, Tribe!
An Assault on
Tribe
I don’t want to think about what happened next. It was too awful.
Copper Pie threw himself at the ladders, grabbed a rung with one hand, then the next and the next and then he was on the bank with us. He’d overtaken the two other pairs . . . but Fifty was left behind on the other side. He hadn’t even tried to climb the ladder and get on to the bars.
‘Come on, Fifty!’shouted Bee, but he just stood there, looking down at the water. I knew he wasn’t going to do it. He didn’t want to fall in, and he didn’t want to wade because the water had been waist-high on Lily, so it would be armpit-high on Fifty. I wished Copper Pie had waited for him. I wished I’d been Fifty’s partner. I wouldn’t have gone off, I’d have helped him over . . . somehow.
Fifty looked across at us. I tried to make an encouraging face, but he shook his head.
‘Loser!’ shouted Callum.
‘None of that,’ said Max, in a voice that really meant it. Callum shut up.
‘Forget the monkey bars, go through the water,’ yelled Lily. She didn’t get how much he hates the thought of being out of his depth. When we went surfing he didn’t go in past his knees.
Max didn’t get it either.’ Fifty. If you don’t want to do the monkey bars, just wade across. It’s fine. But a bit wet . . .’ He laughed, as though getting wet was no big deal. Somehow that made it worse.
Fifty didn’t answer. He just stood there. I felt really uncomfortable, like maybe we should go and get him. That would be better than doing nothing. I was going to suggest it but . . .
Lily was getting impatient. ‘Fifty! Stop mucking about and get over here.’ She grinned at the rest of us, like we were lollipop ladies stopping the traffic and she was a mum waiting for a naughty toddler who wouldn’t come. You can tell she’s not a Triber, not one of us. We all knew he couldn’t do it. We all knew it was a crisis. What we didn’t know was how it was all going to end.
Jonno walked over to Max and said quietly, ‘I’m going to go and help him. He doesn’t really like the water.’
Max made a face – maybe he’d never heard of someone not liking water, or maybe he couldn’t work out how Fifty could do the raft challenge on the water but not this one.
‘Oh, OK. I’ll sort him out.’
Deadly embarrassing. In front of our half of the camp: Missiles, Team GB, Spiders and us, Max went to get Fifty, striding straight through the water as though it was a puddle. The minute Max was out of hearing Callum started up again.
‘Pride, I mean Tribe, comes before a fall.’ He looked around, enjoying being mean. ‘Not exactly a water baby, is he? Just a regular baby. D’you call him the Tribe weed? Little wee-eed.’
‘Say anything else and you’re in the water, Hog,’ said Copper Pie.
Callum stared straight back at him. ‘Weeee-eeed!’ he said.
Oh no! Here we go! Copper Pie took two paces forward and shoved Callum really hard in the chest. There were a few seconds of cartoon-like wobbling while Callum tried to stop himself falling backwards and then a splash.
I checked to see what Max was about to do, but he’d disappeared, as had Fifty. At least that bought us some time. Jonno must have been thinking the same thing – he was already by the river stretching out an arm to try and help Callum up the bank. Callum didn’t take it though. He clambered up on his own, dripping.
‘You’ll be sent home,’ said Callum, staring at Copper Pie.
‘Yeah,’ said Jamie.
‘For pushing another kid into the river.’
‘Yeah,’ said Jamie.
And we’ve got . . .’ Callum looked around. ‘Twenty witnesses.’
‘Twenty witnesses who would be more than happy to repeat all the things you said about Fifty,’ said Jonno.’ I mean, I’m sure you were only joking, but it sounded a whole lot like bullying to me.’
Jonno does it again, I thought. He should work for the United Nations, stopping wars before they happen.
Callum kind of snarled. But when Max whizzed back over the river on the zip, came up to us and said, ‘Looking a bit wet, there, Callum,’ Callum didn’t say a word. Max raised his eyebrows – I think he probably guessed there’d been a situation. I think he probably didn’t want to know anything about it though. Suited us.
‘Keener and Jonno, can you walk back down to the mess tent? We’ll follow in a bit.’
Everyone knew that must mean Fifty had gone back to base. Everyone knew Tribe’d failed to complete the assault course, and Fifty was chicken. It was not Tribe’s greatest moment. And it wasn’t Fifty’s. I couldn’t wait to see him – to tell him it was OK. There was more to being brave than crossing a bit of water. Fifty had spent every year since Reception being big even though he was the littlest. He’d never once given in, even though sometimes it was harder for him. I mean, half the time he couldn’t even see the film in the cinema without sitting on the arm. I wanted to see him. Being a Triber, or being a friend, isn’t about being a certain size or getting across a river or up a tree or catching a wave. It’s nothing to do with what you can do, it’s about who you are.
Matters
Jonno was better at it than me, even though I’ve been friends with Fifty for longer (for ever in fact). Jonno said it didn’t matter that we didn’t win, and it didn’t matter that Fifty didn’t do the monkey bars and it didn’t matter that Callum and Jamie would never let Tribe forget its complete and utter failure at the assault course. (He didn’t use those exact words.) ‘Nothing matters,’ Jonno said, ‘except that we’re Tribe, and Callum’s not.’
What Fifty said was, ‘It matters to me.’
I said nothing.
Eventually, all the other kids from the assault course came back. Bee and Copper Pie headed straight for us.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Bee. ‘Everyone’s frightened of something. And with me it’s birds. That’s more stupid than being afraid of monkey bars.’
‘It wasn’t the monkey bars,’ I said. ‘It was the water underneath he didn’t like.’
‘Whatever,’ said Bee. ‘It’s still better than being frightened of flapping wings.’ She shuddered. Copper Pie started flapping. She ran in circles and he flapped after her. It was lunatic but it did the trick. Jonno flapped and squawked too, so I joined in. It was better than staring at Fifty. When the chicken dance was over, the subject was over too. We talked about the campfire, and what we might be doing on our last day. I couldn’t believe we were already near the end. It had gone in a flash. Fifty was quiet. We all noticed, but didn’t know how to turn up his volume. Maybe it would turn itself up when he stopped going over and over that awful moment on the bank.
Campfire’s
Burning
Fifty didn’t want to light the fire. Unheard of. He lent Max his firesteel and Max picked Zoe to light it. She had to crawl into the tunnel to reach the tinder and kindling in the centre. It was a good design. She had a few tries before she could get the spark, but once she’d worked it out the flames caught right away and in no time it was burning well. We’d had tea and were all ready with our marshmallows on sticks for pudding. The Tribers sat in a line with Fifty in the middle, like we were trying to protect him. Callum kept glancing over our way and smiling a sickly smile. He loved the fact that Fifty had failed.
We sang songs while we ate the sticky (and bit burnt) marshmallows. I’m not much of a singer but I joined in – it was hard not to. Max changed lots of the words so we had lines like:
They scraped Ed off the tarmac like a lump of strawberry jam
Then rolled him up in Bee’s kitbag and sent him home to mum
and
Oh
you’ll never get to heaven, in a Missiles’ boat
Cos the gosh darn thing, won’t even float
And
Oh you’ll never get to heaven, on a Spiders’ bike
Cos you’ll get halfway, then you’ll have to hike.
We finished off with hot chocolate and camp cake, made by Flower Power (looked terrible, tasted delicious). I tried to get Fifty talking but he wasn’t interested. I knew what he was doing, because it was what I’d have done. He was going through it all in his mind again and again, wishing he’d had a go. Wishing he wasn’t the only kid that didn’t even try to cross the river. A few girls fell in, but at least they tried.
By the time we put out the fire (and made sure there was no possibility of loose sparks by dousing it with river water) we were all desperate to get in our sleeping bags.
There was no chatting in the tent. I don’t know why the others were quiet but I know why I was. I was worried that if we started talking we’d end up discussing the failed river crossing, and as we’d already tried to convince Fifty that it didn’t matter, and hadn’t succeeded, I didn’t relish the idea of having another go. I mean, as soon as we got back home it would be forgotten by everyone (except Callum – but Tribe’d find a way to silence him).
I don’t remember thinking anything else. I didn’t dream. I didn’t hear anyone snore or feel anyone’s knee or elbow as they wriggled in their cocoons. I slept like I was dead. And woke up suddenly when I heard Jonno’s voice.
‘Where’s Fifty? Where’s Fifty?’
There’s
Fifty
The camp horn sounded before I had a chance to find out what was going on. It gave three eardrum-shattering blasts, two more than normal.
‘What’s going on?’ I said, eyes open but not working. I sat up, pulled down my ’jama top which was wedged under my armpits and focussed on Jonno, who was looking in Fifty’s sleeping bag.
‘Fifty’s missing,’ he said.
Monkey Bars and Rubber Ducks Page 10
